Two is a Company: An Axe for Hire
by NightstarTC
Summary: This is a series of short stories based off of experiences, lore, and content from the game World of Warcraft by Blizzard. Everything in this fiction is owned by Blizzard except for the names of the OCs: Furaxes and Gazri. All other characters, unless specified, are from WoW. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

The dry sand billowed up past Furaxes as he rode through the vast savannah known as the Northern Barrens. He was an orc with long, thin tusks and of above average height, so he towered over the tallest human, and was about the same height as an average tauren. He had been forcibly recruited from his farm on the outskirts of the Valley of Trials where he had lived with his ageing parents. His father had been a notable shaman in Orgrimmar before he resigned from his post as adviser to Thrall when Garrosh stepped up to the mantle.

The wind rushed past him as he made his way down to the town of Ratchet on the coast of the Northern Barrens. Someone at the Crossroads had passed him a note saying that a goblin hunter was looking for paid help to drive out the Theramore troops near the town.

As Furaxes neared the town center, he pulled the reins on his wolf, Fenir, to slow him down to a gentle trot. He pulled the note out of a pouch on his belt and read it again,

"Meet Gazri at the inn at Ratchet."

Furaxes dismounted and led Fenir to the inn that sat on a rise near the front of the small town. As he looked around, the buildings were ramshackle and there was an open stand near the center that supplied banking services. A blacksmith's store was right next to the inn and flightmaster's wyverns could be seen circling above a wharf where a shipped docked, which would take passengers to Stranglethorn Vale in the Eastern Kingdoms for free. Which was relatively unheard of for a goblin-run town. After tying Fenir to a post outside the inn, Furaxes shouldered aside the threadbare curtains and stomped into the inn, looking for the goblin. However as he quickly cast his eyes around, he didn't notice any green, short ugly looking creature, so he took a seat at a table across from a drunk human carousing with other human companions in varying stages of alcoholic intoxication. The bright shine of a medallion caught Furaxes' eye and he squinted, picking out the livery of Theramore.

Suddenly, a loud voice echoed from the front of the inn, asking for a flagon of bourbon. As the owner of the voice walked in, Furaxes realized it must be Gazri. How fitting that the smallest goblin in history would have the loudest voice. Even if the small goblin stood up on a chair, he wouldn't be up to Furaxes' shoulder height. But the raptor that followed him in was bigger than any other he had seen. The oversized lizard looked around, it's long, sharp claws clicking against the stone floor of the inn, it's intelligent eyes darting around, registering its surroundings. As Gazri made his way into the depths of the inn, he accidentally bumped into the drunk human with the Theramore medallion, slamming the poor man's face into his mug of beer. The man whirled around in anger and glared at the goblin, but the smaller goblin simply smirked and walked off nonchalantly. Gazri settled himself in a table opposite the drunk human, and Furaxes was about to stand up and go over when the drunk human struggled to his feet and lurched over to Gazri, shouting,

"Do you have a problem, goblin?"

Gazri shrugged with a disgusted look on his face, and replied,

"Not really, but I bet your mother did when she pulled you out."

The innkeeper chuckled and even the raptor gave a toothy smile.

The human, however, was not amused, lunging forward with a dirk in hand.

The events unfolded in slow motion as the human flew through the air, aiming for Gazri's head. The goblin, with a sly smile on his face, leaned back in his chair as if he was on the beach in Tanaris, and pulled out a long-barrelled revolver with an enormous cylinder from a holster at his hip and fired a shot. The bullet traveled through the man's left eye and made an enormous, bloody hole in the back of his head, just as Gazri jumped off his falling chair and landed neatly on the floor. The room was silent, except for the innkeeper, who was rolling on the floor laughing. The two human companions drew their swords, just as Furaxes stood up, jumped on his table and leapt off of it, drawing his enormous double-bladed axe in midair. His first, effortless stroke literally disarmed one companion, and his second stroke cleaved the surprised man's head in half. Years of training in the Valley of Trials as a young orc had prepared him for battle, and the months dealing with humans in the ruins of Tiragarde Keep taught him how humans ticked. Ducking to avoid the sword swing aimed at his head, Furaxes swept his axe upwards, slicing the man clean down the middle. Furaxes sheathed his axe and turned towards the surprised hunter while the innkeeper struggled for air and reached for a broom.

"You are Gazri?" Furaxes asked.

"Um. Yes. And who might you be? Can you clean this mess up please?"

"An axe for hire." Furaxes replied, completely ignoring the question.

The goblin perked up.

"For hire, you say?"

"Yes, for the last bloody time." Furaxes replied, exasperated.

"Great! You're hired. Just sign these papers," with that he pulled an enormous sheaf of papers out of his diminutive backpack and slammed it on the table, "and clean up this-"

The goblin didn't finish the sentence before a hand-axe was jammed into his throat.

"I will not clean up your damn mess," Furaxes hissed.

The goblin gulped as a trickle of bright crimson ran down his neck. The innkeeper burst out in another fit of laughter when he saw the show of violence. Furaxes made a mental reminder to ask him forcibly why he was laughing later.

"Just sign the papers then," he said with a sheepish smile.

Furaxes pricked his thumb with the head of the axe and stamped down on the top paper.

"Done, where to?" Furaxes growled.

The goblin looked up with another one of his mischievously sly smiles.

"To the Merchant's Coast."


	2. Chapter 2

Gazri peered through the spyglass.

"You see that little night cap sticking out of that bush? That's a Theramore Commando. They're stationed all along this path all the way to the main camp."

He handed Furaxes the spyglass so he could take a look.

"The Lieutenants are running their troops ragged, that idiotic commando forgot to take off his night cap this morning,"

"Wait, I can't see anything," Furaxes said.

Gazri glanced at the large orc to see him attempting to put the wrong end of the spyglass to his eye.

"You orcs are all the same idiotic brutes," he sighed.

The orc glared at him and looked through spyglass properly.

"Ah. I see the hat now," The orc said.

"Great, things are finally working out. First things first, I need you to run in and kill them all. I'll bring up the rear and loot them. Then we can split the goods. What's half of a half percent?" Gazri asked.

The orc pulled out his hand-axe.

"Do not tempt me, goblin, or you will find the handle of this axe up somewhere rather uncomfortable." The orc angrily retorted.

Gazri threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"All right, I was just messing with you," he said, smiling his sly smile.

Furaxes shuddered and quickly turned away.

Gazri snickered to himself. He knew how unnerving his smile was to people, and he enjoyed people's discomfort. It looked like he was about to either do something absolutely horrifying to them or do something really dangerous. Furaxes unsheathed his double-bladed axe and slid down the embankment the two had been spying from. Gazri couldn't help but notice the elaborate runes that decorated the edges of the axe and the enormous skull in the center, with deep, blood red, ruby eyes inlaid in the sockets. He felt like he had seen the axe somewhere before, perhaps in a black market auction, and the designs felt vaguely familiar. However, he had never seen the hand-axe that Furaxes carried at his hip. It was a replica of the double-bladed axe that he used, except it had one blade instead of two. The hand axe and the double-bladed axe looked like a pair, but he had never seen the hand axe before. As Gazri looked on, Furaxes had arrived at the bush with the unfortunate commando with his night cap still on. He could visibly see the sadistic smile dancing on the orc's lips as he watched him pull the hat off, making the commando jump in surprise, and take a huge swing with his axe, decapitating the poor man. Gazri shook his head in sadness and pulled out his rifle to cover the big orc and hopped on to Dino, his raptor. The raptor tensed its muscles and leaped forward, landing next to the corpse of the commando. Gazri slid off Dino and rifled through the dead man's pockets but only found a couple of coppers.

"Gods, don't they have a better salary than this?" Gazri muttered to himself.

He stood back up again and shouldered the rifle, lightly jogging after the Furaxes and following the trail of corpses. He found the orc locked in combat with three other Theramore Marines and hopped on to Dino, who had trailed after him. The raptor jogged forward and Gazri looked through the scope attached to the rifle. He took a deep breath and exhaled, calmly firing when on Marine took a swing with his sword, exposing a tiny weak point in his otherwise impervious plate armor. The bullet penetrated the soldier's arm and exploded inside his body, scattering pieces of blackened armor, guts, and gore all over the dusty ground. Furaxes got a mouthful of the soldier upon explosion and spit into the face of his comrade, blinding him, and then swung his axe in a large arc, caving in the helm and skull in one stroke. Ducking underneath the sword of the other marine, Furaxes parried another blow, and deflected the sword to one side. Then spinning in towards the soldier, he pushed the man to the side, exposing his neck, and using one hand to hold the enormous double-bladed axe, he took the man's head off. The orc grunted in satisfaction as the headless corpse spurted a fountain of blood and dropped lifeless to the ground. Gazri could only stare in wonder at the brute strength that the orc had, it seemed as if he had gone through extremely rigorous training to the point of insanity. The orc looked over at the dumbfounded goblin and smirked,

"What, you've never seen an orc before?"

Gazri scowled and shook his head. He hopped on to Dino, who was busy chewing at a piece of Theramore Marine. The raptor looked up from his meal and trotted forward, and Furaxes followed after. They entered the encampment the front of the encampment and crouched behind some bushes to set out the next steps of their plan. Dino crouched down as well. Gazri took a loose twig and drew a rough sketch of the human camp.

"There's a prison section set off there in the center," Gazri whispered, pointing to the square in the middle of the camp. "Outside of it are practice targets where Lieutenant Pyre should be practicing with her other team of sharpshooters. I need you to hide near them, and while I distract them with my own sharpshooting skills and Dino, you charge in behind them and kill them all. Got it?"

Furaxes nodded in understanding,

"What about Lieutenant Buckland?" He asked.

"Now here is the problem. Buckland will be patrolling the entire area, so if he happens to see you attempting to kill his fellow lieutenant, shit will hit the fan, and we don't want to be there when it does," Gazri explained. "This is where I come in again. By this time, those other sharpshooters should be dead and only Pyre will be left. I will have Dino attack Buckland and I'll try and handle him before he discovers the ploy."

Furaxes nodded again,

"So divide and conquer, eh?" He grinned maliciously.

"Precisely." Gazri replied, returning the smile.

Furaxes peeked through the leaves to check if the coast was clear. Meanwhile, Gazri jumped on to Dino and directed him to a copse of trees. The goblin jumped from the raptor to the lower branches and climbed to the middle of a large baobab tree and sat in the lower branches. Furaxes charged out of the bush at an unsuspecting marine and pulled out his hand axe, yanked the soldier's head backwards and drew the axe across his exposed throat. Furaxes dived for another clump of bushes, dragging the corpse of the marine with him, just as a patrol of marines walked by, making their rounds to the front of the camp. Gazri could see the orc peeking up through the leaves of the bushes, searching for an opening to get to the targets. Unfortunately, it was all open space from the bush to the targets, with marines and priests lining the central pathway to Lieutenant Pyre. Gazri lifted the sniper rifle to his shoulder and peered through the scope again, aligning the crosshairs to the eyehole of a marine in Furaxes' way.

Deep breaths, he told himself.

He inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again, and pulled the trigger. The projectile shot across the expanse of space, penetrated the helmet and created a meal of scrambled human brains, cooked by the intense heat of the Barrens' sun. Furaxes flinched but recovered quickly, nodding in the direction of Gazri as he dashed for the targets. Gazri reloaded and looked through the scope again, aiming for one of the sharpshooters who had noticed Furaxes running like an angry bull. The sharpshooters were lightly armored, and Gazri loaded a less explosive bullet into the chamber and fired, knocking the man backwards into his companion who conveniently fired at that precise moment, firing a shot that careened harmlessly into the back of a priest who was healing another injured soldier, killing her instantly. By that time, Gazri had reloaded again and was aiming at the second sharpshooter who had a horrified look on his face, that could only come from killing his own comrade, when a bullet flew straight into the trees and almost embedded itself in Gazri's arm. The goblin looked down sharply and saw a marine climbing the tree while the offending gunman was reloading for another shot. Gazri whistled and Dino leapt from the tree, swiping his razor sharp claws and gutting the sharpshooter. Gazri drew his pole-arm and parried the blow from the marine. The marine was obviously extremely skilled and his sword became a flurry of strikes and counterstrikes as Gazri struggled to keep up with blurring weapon, all the while trying to stay balanced on the tree. Suddenly, as the marine took a step forward to press the offensive, a branch cracked from under his foot and he plunged forward, frantically grabbing anything for support. Gazri didn't give him the chance and using the man's falling momentum, crouched and lunged upwards with his spear, crunching through the man's plate and underlying mail armor, disembowling the poor soldier. The marine groaned and slipped off the blade, crashed through the tree, and landed with a sickening thud. Dino had made short work of the sharpshooter who was definitely better with a gun and perked up when he smelled the tantalizing aroma wafting off of the dead marine's intestines. Gazri looked away with a queasy stomach as the raptor dug in to his third meal of the day. Meanwhile, Furaxes had engaged Lieutenant Pyre and on closer inspection, the orc had been shot up a couple times, probably from Pyre's rifle. Gazri had seen reports of Pyre's unerring marksmanship, and he could see the results right here in front of him. Furaxes had sustained gunshot wounds and he was bleeding profusely, slowing his movements. Gazri shrugged,

I guess I'll be taking the full share of this venture, he thought to himself.

Pyre had dropped her rifle now, and drew her one-handed sword in one hand and a longish dagger in the other. The two were circling each other in their fighting stances, but Furaxes was panting hard and tottering on his feet while Pyre was still hale as ever. Pyre darted forward with both weapons aimed at the orc's chest, but Furaxes lifted the axe to block the strikes and spun out of her reach, swinging the axe on his way out to catch Pyre on the backswing. Pyre easily deflected the weakened blow, and Furaxes stumbled forward with his own momentum. Pyre took the advantage and charged forward, swinging the sword as she did so, and made a deep gash in the orc's arm, causing Furaxes to drop his axe and grab his arm in pain. The axe landed in the dust and some of the orc's blood splattered on to it. For some reason, the runes on the axe was glowing a maroon red color, and Gazri squinted, leaning forward for a better look. Furaxes picked up the axe and slowly, the gash stitched itself together to reform unbroken skin, with only a telltale scar where an open cut used to be. Pyre was shocked and stood there gaping at the healed cut. Furaxes took advantage of her lapse swung the axe upwards, intending to take her arm off, but a shield deflected the blow. Lieutenant Buckland had arrived. Gazri almost fell out of the tree. He whistled and Dino looked up from his meal.

"Let's help our green friend over there," he said.

Gazri leapt from the tree and landed on the raptor's back, spurring him on in the process. Dino jumped forward and charged towards the combatants. He drew his two revolvers and spun their cylinders, to check if they were oiled and ready to go. He had had the revolvers specially made to be able to switch from firing single shots at a time and rapid firing. He hadn't really used the rapid fire function since he got the guns; his shooting was so accurate, a single shot would kill his target. But not this time. He was facing two armed and dangerous targets who wouldn't hesitate to cut up a simple goblin. These weren't practice dummies. Besides, he wanted to see what would happen when he used his explosive bullets on rapid fire. So Gazri flipped the switches on both guns, leapt off of Dino, and shot his way to...wherever dead people go. It was a veritable firestorm, explosions rocked the battlefield and Buckland's armor and underlying body was left with gaping holes. Pyre became a tribute to her namesake, as she exploded into flames, screaming all the while. Furaxes had leapt out of the way just in time, covering himself with the head of his axe. The ground was littered with smoking, charred meat and Dino dug in to his dinner time meal. Gazri looked at the empty, smoking revolvers in awe, and realized that he had shot too many times. The barrels were melted stubs and would never fire another bullet. He sighed with disappointment and pocketed the ruins of his revolvers, noting himself to take them to a blacksmith to have them reforged. Furaxes peeked over the edge of his axe and when he realized that his opponents had become blackened husks, he growled at Gazri,

"I could have taken them on my own, I didn't need your help."

"Hey, I saw you were in an unfair fight and I thought I should intervene in order to keep you alive," Gazri retorted.

Furaxes snorted and reached into his pack, pulling out a couple of bandages and wrapping up his cuts. Gazri looked around. The marines hadn't noticed the commotion, or the rather large explosions; a testament to their sheer exhaustion. Gazri motioned for Dino and Furaxes to follow him, and he crept into the prison compound. What met his eyes was a rather confusing scene. A man was calmly sitting to the left of the prison compound, swigging from a hip flask with his leg shackled to a tree. A dog was holding up a keychain, standing just out of reach of a deplorable man locked up in a cage who was struggling to keep his temper in check and pleading for the keys piteously. Gazri addressed the man drinking from the flask,

"How much will you give me if I set you free?"

The man looked up from his seemingly never-empty flask and slyly replied,

"I can give you a pirate's hidden treasure, if ya want it?"

Gazri's lit up like twin suns,

"And how did you come across this treasure, old man?"

The old man smiled at that, and said,

"Because I am Baron Longshore, the scourge of the Great Sea."

Gazri gasped aloud. Then a confusing expression crossed his face,

"Wait, who's that?"

The Baron growled,

"What do ya mean ya ne'er heard o' Baron Longshore 'afore?"

Gazri looked over at Furaxes in askance, who simply shrugged with an equally confused expression.

The Baron slapped a hand to his forehead and said,

"Ne'er ya mind, I have treasure and I'll hand it to ya if ya set me free and find the map. There's a tattooed head on a palm tree on the outside of the encampment. The tattooed head is the map to the treasure."

Gazri looked at Furaxes, shrugged, and struck off the Baron's chains.

"Nice doin' business wit ya," the Baron smiled.

He got up and strolled out of the prison compound, whistling a merry tune. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out and the pair heard a loud curse from the Baron as he made a mad dash for Ratchet. Gazri and Furaxes left the compound and went to the palm tree that the Baron mentioned. As they approached, Gazri noticed there was something off about the tree, something along the lines of "no tattooed head". The pair searched the tree but couldn't find any sort of human appendage. Gazri climbed the tree to the lower limbs and noticed a narrow dagger pinned to a branch with a hanging note. He ripped the note off and scanned it quickly. Afterwards, he let it flutter to the ground where Furaxes caught it and read it himself.

"Seems like someone got to the head before we did. You know who it is?" Furaxes asked.

"Yeah," Gazri growled, his eyes veritably smouldering cinders, "an old friend of mine, none other than the infamous Tony Two-Tusk."

"We're going to hunt him down, and take back the treasure that's rightfully mine."

"What about me?" Furaxes asked plaintively.


End file.
